


Undeserving

by harmonicNoiz



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Depression, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, This is really just a vent fic, Why do I do this, dont read this its really just super graphic stuff ft cutting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 02:16:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5439707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harmonicNoiz/pseuds/harmonicNoiz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You don’t deserve this, Kenma.”<br/>Tears were streaming down his face. "I do, though! I don't deserve any better than this"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Undeserving

**Author's Note:**

> This is really triggering, It's mostly based on my own experience. When I'm sad, I write sad fics and make my fav characters suffer and then I'm not sad. I'm horrible. Btw the thing that I put as the summary is something I'm probably going to use later but idk

His hands wouldn’t stop shaking. He was holding a blade against the skin of his thigh. He hadn’t ever done this before, only read about it on the internet. It said that razor blades worked best.

“Just do it!”  
“Make yourself bleed”  
“You deserve it”  
“Stop being such a damn wimp!”

He knew that the voices in his head were wrong. He knew they were. But he listened to them anyways.

He moved his hand quickly, not pressing down to hard. He had heard that most people use slower motions but he was scared. The pain didn’t last very long, a second or two maybe, and it didn’t bleed.

He pressed down a bit harder this time, repeating the motion. The stinging pain lasted longer this time but not long enough. He watched small beads of blood form on the skin. It was bright, a very pretty colour.

He made another cut right under that one, pressing down a bit harder again. There was a bit more blood. He ran the razor across his skin again. More pretty red blood. Another cut. More red. Just one more. Just a bit more blood. Just a bit more pain. Just a little–

He heard Kuro’s voice downstairs and froze.

“Kenma? You here?” He could hear Kuro dropping his bag and heading into the kitchen.

“Hold on,” He yelled from his spot on his bed. He grabbed a tissue, wiping the blood off his thigh as he searched for his pants. He buried the tissue in the trashcan, slipping on his pants and wincing at the pain of the fabric against the cuts. He moved the blades from his bed to his desk because he knew Kuro wouldn’t be sitting there.

He left his room, heading down the stairs and into the kitchen. Kuro was searching the fridge for any decent food that wasn’t leftovers.

God, I hope my eyes aren’t too red from crying, he thought to himself. Hopefully he just looked tired. He was always tired lately. No matter how much sleep he got he was always exhausted  
“How are you feeling,” Kuro asked. Kenma had taken the day off because he felt sick. His mom let him do that every now and then. His depression seemed worse today and he wanted to kill himself. Kuro would be sad if he told him that so he didn’t mention anything sad to him.

“Still crappy,” Kenma answered truthfully. He felt like worthless shit, which really hadn’t changed since this morning.

“That sucks,” he said, opening his bag, “I brought your homework,” He placed a small stack of papers on the island counter.

“Ugh.” I’m not going to do it so why did you even bring it, Kenma thought. He had horrible grades already and there was really no point in trying to bring them up. He was stupid.

“I can help you with it if you want,” Kenma said, grabbing some chips out of the cabinet.

“It’ fine,” Kenma responded. Kuro didn’t know how bad his grades were and he didn’t plan to tell him.

They sat in silence in Kenma’s room for about an hour, Kenma playing Zelda at his desk while Kuro sat on the floor reading something. Kenma wasn’t really sure why, but time spent with Kuro was never awkward or uncomfortable. He never felt like he was being judged when he was around Kuro like he did with other people.

After another hour, Kuro’s mom called and he needed to go home. Kenma liked Kuro’s mom but he never liked when she told him that he needed to come home. If it was up to him, then Kuro would stay at Kenma’s house all the time.

Kuro packed up his stuff, said goodbye and left. Kenma was left alone. He was sad now that he was alone. He was never really sad when he was around Kuro but he always was once he left. Always.

Kenma looked at the stack of homework on his desk. He felt bad, not doing it but he wasn’t going to do it anyway. The guilt would stay there, taunting him, but that was normal.

He decided to take a shower to try and clear his head. He gathered a change of clothes and a hair band and prepared to head to the bathroom. He turned around and stared at the paper that the blades were under.

He took his stuff to the bathroom before heading back to his room. He took a small wooden box that he had from when he was a kid. He used to keep DS games in it before he got far too many games to fit in it. He picked up the four blades, placing them into the box and taking it to the bathroom with him.

He started the water and undressed, waiting for it to heat up. Once it was warm he grabbed a blade out of the box and stepped into the shower. He set the blade on the edge of the tub as he washed his hair. He picked up the blade after that, running it over his skin a few times and watching the blood mix with water. There appeared to be more as it ran down his leg but he knew it was mostly water.

After about five cuts, he just stood there watching the blood run down his legs. It was pretty, a lot brighter than it was in the dim lighting of his room. So pretty and bright. It flowed down his leg so smoothly, like small, red waterfalls. He wanted to see it more.

He stopped staring at the cuts after a while and rinsed off the blood, having to rub some of it off. He turned off the water and stepped out, grabbing a dark towel so that the blood couldn’t be seen on it. Once he was dry enough, he grabbed the hoodie that he brought and slipped it over his head before putting on pants.

He grabbed the box, hiding it in the pocket of his hoodie as he left the bathroom. He never liked the feeling of his wet hair on his neck so he normally tied it back right after getting out of the shower but he decided not to bother this time, putting the hair band around his wrist.

He went to bed as soon as he got to his room, plopping down on the bed with a sigh. _God, today was tiring._

**Author's Note:**

> This whole fic is probs just going to be my excuse to write cutting scenes whenever I want to cut.


End file.
